It was early December, and Illia was into her 9th month of pregnancy. She was on bedrest, not allowed to even cook from her size. Illia was overjoyed at the knowledge that her child would be born soon.
At around 7:32, on December 4th, 1827, Elliot was making Lapsha for his wife to comfort her heartburn. About the time he was boiling the noodles the was a swift, confidant knock at the door. The brunette had sighed, going to answer the door only to back away slightly in fear.
"Celvic..." he had said.
"Elliot.. I've decided your payment."
"W-what is it..?"
"Your first born son."
"What? No!"
"Ah, I see, how has Illia been lately? Hasn't been choking any, has she?"
"No. Don't you touch her!"
"I believe its time to go," Celvic had walked to the door, turning his head slightly, "Don't forget my payment."
After Celvic has left, Elliot cried for a little while. He then cleaned himself and smiled at his wife when he brought her dinner.
"Thank you, myed," he had smiled.
Elliot knew he couldn't tell her. No, not yet.